


Pen Name

by Kru



Series: of witchers and bards [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Crack, International Fanworks Day, International Fanworks Day 2020, Light Angst, M/M, only because Geralt just can't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kru/pseuds/Kru
Summary: “Tell me,” Geralt starts, still observing the group as he asks, “How exactly did you make sure no one will know that the book is about us?”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: of witchers and bards [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626238
Comments: 58
Kudos: 1109





	Pen Name

**Author's Note:**

> I did a thing xd
> 
> Prompt fill for International Fanworks Day 2020: **characters discovering fanworks about themselves**
> 
> Speed Bated by [locktea](https://locktea.tumblr.com/) ;)

He enters the inn trying not to wreak his anger on the door, containing the urge to slam it against the wall. The stream of light that gets in with him, highlights the dust picked up by his movement. It slowly settles back in the chamber, gently covering again every piece of furniture.

Apart from the dust and the innkeeper himself, there aren’t many people inside. Geralt locates a pair of tired travelers in the further part of the room, pressed in the corner on his right, and a man that looks like a messenger, focusing on his soup at a table in the middle of the hall. And there is also Jaskier, sitting just next to a huge fireplace. He leans on the wall behind him with his lute in his hands. Spreading his legs comfortably on the table, he lazily pulls on strings, singing something under his breath.

That bastard, Geralt thinks as his hold on the book that he brought with himself tightens. He walks slowly down the rows of tables, not even bothering to be quiet. His steps resonate between the wooden walls, but the bard doesn’t pay attention. He only furiously writes in his small notepad and then plays a few new chords. He even doesn’t bother to look up when the witcher stands above him and blocks any light that might reach his corner. Even though Geralt is angry, he doesn’t want to think what could happen if it wasn’t him, but someone who didn’t necessarily value Jaskier’s talent or his wits, looming over him. Not that Geralt himself appreciates his talent or wits. Oh no. Not at all.

Shaking the thoughts away he throws the book on the table in front of the bard, stirring up the dust again.

Jaskier glances at it, and still not making any eye contact with the witcher he asks weakly, “Have you read it?”

“Parts,” Geralt grunts through his teeth.

“Ah,” the bard only says and winces, still looking at the book. “Did you like it?”

“No,” the witcher only growls and throwing Jaskier’s feet from the table he takes the opposite seat, adding, “When did you manage to write that?”

To the bard's benefit, he looks sheepish when he finally meets Geralt’s gaze, whispering unsure, “Around six months ago when we were here last time?”

Geralt only manages to huff out a long breath, closing his eyes to count to ten in a weak attempt to calm down.

“How could I know that it was going to be such a smashing hit?” He hears Jaskier starting to mutter, “I gave the publisher my manuscripts and they used this new thing called the press. In a few days, there had been a couple dozen copies. They said they sold out on the spot, so they started printing more and more, giving me my healthy share of the profits. And who am I to resist payment for my creation?”

Geralt opens his eyes swiftly to give the bard another stern look as he slowly asks, “You want to tell me that all that money you recently spent on your new clothes and expensive inns are not coming from your singing but from a book that describes how we fuck?”

“Hey, you sleep in those inns as well and you enjoy them as much as I do, if I recall correctly,” Jaskier protest instantly but as fast as he starts, he stops, seeing how the witcher looks at him. He visibly takes a deep breath and tries for another excuse, “Besides no one knows my real name and there is no mention of Geralt or Jaskier in any of those stories!”

“How many witchers do you think is there dragging a bard along their way, hmm?”

The bard snorts, saying, “I’m sure there are many.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt only warns him. “This is serious. People hate me already. I don’t need another term to add to the long list of accusations they throw at me. And it might be bad for business.”

“Then it’s good we have money from the book,” Jaskier decides and smiles one of his brightest, most contagious smiles. He leans in the table and adds very quiet, “Geralt, my true and only love, my private knight in black armor, I made sure no one would know so stop worrying and enjoy.”

The witcher also moves closer above the table and whispers, “If you didn’t, though, and someone discovers that you describe our whereabouts you can be sure I will never do to you those things that you put in the book.” 

“Not even the thing with your tongue that you say you like so much?” Jaskier asks, visibly pouting.

“Not even that,” Geralt confirms categorically and after a short pause he adds, “And I will strangle you with my bare hands.”

“I’m really not into the whole domination and submission sort of thing,” he confesses seriously in the same moment as three young women enter the inn. 

They are whispering between each other, pulling Geralt’s attention. When he looks at them, he spots instantly that one holds a book close to her chest. The book has a brown, leather cover and gold lettering just like the one that sits on their table. From their place, Geralt can read the first two words the letters compose – Julian Pankratz. 

He hear Jaskier audibly holds his breath when the women take their places at the other side of the hall and one of them says very quietly, “I bet it’s about the White Wolf and the handsome bard he is always with,” while the other that holds on to the book adds, “His name is Jaskier!” 

“Tell me,” Geralt starts, still observing the group as he asks, “How exactly did you make sure no one will know that the book is about us?”

And when there is no answer from the other side of the table, he turns back to the bard only to discover that he, his lute, the book, and his notepad are gone.

“Hmm,” Geralt slowly lets out and adds, “And then he disappears.”


End file.
